


Summertime Sadness

by transpeterp



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Mentions of abuse/homophobia, parallels of sirius and draco, sirius and remus are guardians of harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 01:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17295173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transpeterp/pseuds/transpeterp
Summary: a parallel between sirius and draco, as they both run away from home and seek comfort in certain potter boys.





	Summertime Sadness

The situation was all too familiar. 

Harry, whom had grown custom to hearing about his mother and father, more his father, through his two uncles, couldn’t help but wonder throughout his life about how similar some of his situations were to his father’s when he was attending school. 

He had heard countless times the basic similarities; he looked like his father with his mother’s eyes. But, he couldn’t help but wonder the less obvious similarities between his father’s crazy life at school to his. 

When he was in second year, McGonagall slyly told him that his handwriting was similar to his father’s; a messy scrawl, barely legible to the untrained eye. 

Then, when he was in fourth, and Remus found Sirius and Harry asleep on the couch. He told Harry the next morning, once Sirius was out of earshot, that the amount of times he walked in on James and Sirius asleep in the common rooms in that exact position was too big to count. 

Even once, start of his fifth year, when Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco were caught out of bed in the middle of October, Dumbledore recounted the times he and the other staff often caught the Marauders out of bed and told them they reminded him of them. 

So, when the summer after his fifth year came, he maybe should have expected what would happen. 

——

For Draco Malfoy, however, the situation was far too extreme, far too scary. 

He had grown used to the odd look, the slight grimace. Because why wouldn’t they grimace? He was the hated son of Lucius Malfoy. He was the rebel. The outsider of the tight knit group of pure bloods. The one who had defied all odds, and not only started dating a Gryffindor, but started dating a male Gryffindor. Which was, at least in the pure blood Slytherin’s minds, social suicide. Even if said male Gryffindor was Harry Potter. Maybe that just made it worse. 

Draco was used to the odd look during his fifth year. After Harry and Draco’s relationship became a public affair, he was used to sitting silently during classes, watching Crabbe and Goyle out of the corner of his eye as they watched him out of theirs. Draco didn’t say anything when, two days after the damn second year Ravenclaw told the entire school that she caught Draco and Harry making out by the lake, his bed was pushed against the window, a good distance away from all the other fifth year boy’s beds. 

He kept his tongue in cheek, and sat somewhat awkwardly at the Gryffindor table with Harry and the rest, hand intertwined with Harry’s under the table, never saying too much, but occasionally offering his wanted opinion or a laugh to a funny joke Weasley managed. 

He didn’t know what was in store come the end of fifth year, when he got off the train to find just his mother there, waiting for him with a saddened, and frankly, frightened, look on her face, which she hesitantly cast in Harry’s direction. Harry who was busy reuniting with his uncles and focusing on not looking at Draco in case to give away anything to Draco’s family, like they talked about. 

Harry didn’t see Mrs. Malfoy’s look of despair, and therefore, didn’t know what was coming. 

Draco had an inkling, though. 

——

It was the start of July. Harry, Sirius, and Remus just got back from a lovely dinner at the Burrow, and were up late watching a muggle movie Remus loved so much. 

At one AM, Harry announced he couldn’t finish the movie, and went to bed, despite the pleas from his two guardians that there were only twenty minutes left in the movie. 

Harry curled into bed, but something felt...off. He couldn’t sleep at all, despite being really tired from the days festivities at his best friends house. 

It had started storming somewhere between arriving back from the Weasley’s and Harry going to bed, during that movie period. It was a bad storm, with lightning and thunder and deafening rain. Harry remembered a time he used to go to Remus and Sirius’s bed with tears in his eyes during storms like this, and would crawl in and sleep cuddled between them. 

He tossed and turned for about ten minutes. His mind drifted slowly from the sounds to worrying about his boyfriend, like it did most nights when Harry alone in his thoughts. He knew Draco’s parents would flip if they knew about them, so he was opting not the tell them. Which Harry, having heard everything about the pure blood family related to his own uncle, understood and respected. He did tell Draco before they got off the train, however, to write as soon as he felt safe to. 

And he hasn’t received a letter. Hedwig, whom seemed to be visiting Draco everyday, because Harry’s owl was a sweetheart and loved Draco who always knew where to pet her, had come back every night empty clawed, and rubbed against Harry for a few minutes, most likely in comfort from the lack of connection with the blond boy. Sometimes he could smell the slight aroma of Draco on her. A bit musky and warm, like a odd mix between pine trees (which Harry knew was Draco’s deodorant) and mint (his aftershave). On those days, Harry would just nestle into Hedwig’s feathers and breathe in deep breaths, smelling the bird and Draco all at once. 

But she didn’t come back that day. Or, at least wasn’t back since Harry has been home. 

Harry eventually gave up on sleeping in his own bed, electing, somewhat sheepishly, that he would go downstairs and try and fall asleep with Sirius and Remus on the couch. 

He entered the living room to find them sprawled on the couch, both sets of feet propped on the coffee table, Sirius’s arm draped over Remus’s shoulder, hand trailing along lightly visible scars on his arm. 

“what’s up, kiddo?” Sirius’s asked, and Remus jolted upwards. Apparently he was about to fall asleep too. 

“Nothing, just… not tired anymore.” 

Harry was fifteen years old, and completely ashamed to admit to the two men who raised him that he couldn’t sleep through the storm and wanted to cuddle to fall asleep. 

But, as they did in fact raise Harry, they saw through him. 

“Okay, kid. Want to come talk to me in bed? I’m going up,” Remus said, and Sirius softly smiled, looking between them. “You coming, Pads?” 

“No, I’m going to watch the news for a bit,” Sirius said, kissing Remus softly as he stood up, and beckoning Harry over for a kiss, too. Harry kissed his uncle’s forehead, and followed Remus to the master bedroom. 

He crawled into the middle of the bed, and watched through the doorway as Remus brushed his teeth and washed his face quickly, before stripping of his jeans and sweater, pulling on pajama pants. The scars on his chest were prominent, but Harry did his best not to stare. He had his own scars to show. 

Remus turned the light off, and pulled the covers around both of them. Despjte him offering to talk to Harry, they both understood they were going to bed. 

The wind outside howled. 

And then, at almost two in the morning, after Harry had fallen completely asleep in his Uncle Moony’s arms, there was a persistent knock at the front door. 

——

Sirius muted the muggle TV they watched religiously. TV was something he only recently began to enjoy, when Remus brought one home claiming he wanted to see if some shows he watched as a child were still on (they weren’t). Sirius liked watching Muggle news, as it kept him grounded in the world outside the wizard one. 

As he hurried to the door, he wondered who it could be at this godforsaken hour. It could be a Weasley, taking them up on the offer to stay the night that they offered a lot when all seven children were home. It could possibly be a teacher, maybe there was a Hogwarts emergency for Remus. Maybe Dumbledore coming to ask Remus to teach again (he was old, maybe he lost all concept of time). 

He swung the door open, and a gush of cool, rain infused air burst into the house, and Sirius stood face to face with a soaking wet Draco Malfoy, who had his school trunk behind him, and was wearing black jeans and a sweater that looked suspiciously like the one Molly made for Harry last year for Christmas, H and all.

“Draco?” 

Sirius knew Draco only through Harry. Harry told them that he became friends with him third year, and over the course of two years had talked more and more and more about the blond boy. Remus and Sirius suspected, but never mentioned anything about what Harry might be feeling for the Slytherin. 

“H...hi.” 

Draco’s teeth were literally clattering in the cold rain. His hair almost seemed to be glued to his forehead with the rain. 

“God, come in, come in. Are you here alone?” Sirius grabber for his trunk, helping him pull it inside, and shut the door. Now, Draco just stood dripping rain water in their foyer. 

“Y...yeah. Sorry for c...coming so late. Is H...Harry here? I n...need…” 

He sniffed, arms tightly wrapped around himself as he stared at his feet. 

“I shouldn’t’ve come. I...I’m so...sorry. Harry said I could… I’m sorry.” 

“No! No, Draco, it’s okay. Let me get you a towel, don’t move.” 

Sirius hurried upstairs and grabbed a towel out of the closest bathroom, which was Harry’s. 

He helped Draco to the kitchen, sitting him down with the blue towel Harry used after showers wrapped around his shoulders, blond hair still dripping into his eyes. 

“Tea?” 

“I...if it’s not too much tro...trouble.” 

Sirius turned the kettle on, and came to sit next to Draco. 

“Can you tell me why you are here so early? Harry’s asleep right now.” 

“I…” 

Draco started at his clasped, shaking hands. Sirius grabbed them and held them tightly, trying to warm them up more than for comfort. They were freezing. 

“Harry told me to owl him whenever I got the chance. H...he gave me this address. I mean, he g...gave it a while ago. And I...I was going to owl. But… I… I just couldn’t…” 

That’s when Sirius deciphered the difference between the rain water still dripping down the young boy’s face to the steady flow of tears streaming. And Sirius, having never met this boy before this day, absolutely broke at this sight. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Let me go get Harry, okay? You can talk to him.” 

Sirius hurried up the stairs, and quietly slipped into his bedroom. 

He took a moment to see both of the boys, his boys, curled together, asleep. 

“Moony…” He whispered, brushing his lover’s hair back from his forehead. Remus stirred a bit, but didn’t wake up. “Moon.” 

Still nothing. 

“Harry, baby, wake up.” 

“Hmph,” Harry groaned, as he shifted into Remus more, and Remus tightened his grip around the fifteen year old more, as well. 

“Harry, Draco is here.” 

Harry stirred again, this time peeling his eyes open. 

“Wh...what?” 

Remus stirred too, beginning to wake up himself. 

“Draco is here. Downstairs. He is… well, he is a bit of a mess right now. Crying a whole lot. Something happened, I think.” 

“He’s… he’s here?” Harry sat up, and Remus opened his eyes. Sirius squeezes his hand, and sadly watched Harry try to comprehend. 

“Yeah. He wants to see you. Go, kid.” 

Harry scampered out of bed, and Remus looked at Sirius confusedly. 

——

“Draco?” 

Draco whipped his head up from where he leaning against the table, forehead pressed against the wood. There, in the semi-lit doorway, stood his living, breathing boyfriend. Harry was wearing pajamas, and had extremely messy hair (even more so than usual), and on any other day Draco would flirtatiously chastise him, but he couldn’t even bring himself to smirk at the sight. 

“Har…” His voice cracked and he stood up, limbs looking very tired and aching. Even Harry could tell the boy was weak. 

“Draco,” Harry whispered, and launched himself towards his boyfriend in a tight hug. He smelt of peppermint, pine trees, and rain. 

“I...I couldn’t do it. He...he knew, Har. He knew, because Crabbe told… Crabbe fucking told his father, and his father told mine and so… he knew. I got home, and he asked, and I denied even though I...I didn’t want to, but I did and he seemed to let it go ‘till last night, he invited Crabbe and Goyle over with their… with their fathers, and they rat...they fucking ratted me out, and my dad went off and screamed in front of them and… and threw a plate at me and I locked myself in...in my room, and he stopped until this morning… and I… He caught me trying to get food, and… and… he hit me. He hit me a...a lot, and I couldn’t...breathe, and he kept hitting me and I passed out and woke up in...in my room and he came in and sat down and said I had to write to you and tell you… tell you I am not going back to Hogwarts and he was going to take me to Beauxbatons in…instead and I begged no but he wouldn’t take no, and h...hit me some more when I refused then locked me in my room all day. I snuck out when he went to bed, and apparated right here. I didn’t… I didn’t even mean to apparate. It just… I was outside in the pouring rain and I thought of you and this address, because I had memorized it, and, just, like, I apparated. Without anything else. I’m here now.” 

Draco was a snotty mess. His hair was dripping onto Harry’s shirt, and he was gripping Harry’s short so tight it pulled at Harry’s back. Snot dribbled down his nose and onto Harry’s chest, but Harry couldn’t care, as he held his boyfriend close and silently wept as he sobbed into him. 

“Draco, Dray. Baby, it’s okay, you are here, you’re here and safe. You aren’t going back,” Harry whispered into him as they gripped each other tightly, as if the world depended on it. “You are going to stay here, you aren’t going back. You’re safe, baby. You’re safe.” 

From the doorway, Remus and Sirius stood, watching the sight with tear-filled eyes, gripping each other like they would spontaneously collapse without the support of the other. 

——

Remus helped Draco up onto the counter of the small bathroom. Harry’s toiletries were spread about the counter, and Remus nudged them aside, making sure the sniffling boy was okay. 

“I’m… You are going to have to take your shirt off. I promise that it will be okay, it’s just me and you. I won’t even tell Harry if you don’t want me to, alright?” 

Draco, after a bit of persuasion, pulled off his moist jumper, letting it fall to the ground in a heap. All across his pale chest were welts of blue, yellow, and purple. There were a few scratch marks, though nothing that was going to permanently scar, Remus noted, thankfully. 

However, one thing stood out most peculiar, were burn marks covering the boys sides, as if fingers had burnt him when they touched him. 

“What are these?” He brushed his course fingertips along the rough skin softly, and Draco shrunk back, flinching. 

“I… I don’t… I don’t know.” Draco didn’t seem too sure, and both of them knew that. 

Remus held his wand up to begin healing the bruises, and at the sight of the wand pointed towards him, Draco jumped back, accidentally banging his head against the mirror behind him and slipping to the floor in a heap of almost instantaneous sobs. 

Remus dropped his wand with a clatter into the sink, and sink down to the floor with the boy, opening his arms. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, kid. Come here, come here,” He beckoned the blonde boy near, who shook with fear and sobs as he inched closer. Remus pulled the fifteen year old into his lap and began slightly rocking him like he used to do when Harry was scared. “It’s okay, Draco. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you.” 

They sat there on the cool bathroom floor for a long time. 

——

The morning came faster than any of the four really expected. Harry and Draco ended up asleep on the couch, and Remus and Sirius in their own bed. 

The conversation once they made sure the boys were asleep (Draco with some burn salve covering his sides and a bruise ointment on his chest) was so necessarily concise. 

Remus, waiting for Sirius to crawl into bed with him, said to the darkness, “What are we going to do about him?” 

Sirius, ever the one with words, articulated, “Well, we can’t send him back to that horrible place, can we? If he wants to, he stays.” 

Sirius was up far too early for his liking, and Remus even earlier. Though, not as early as Harry and Draco. 

Harry woke up to the morning sun just beginning to peek through the big windows of the living room, at around six. He didn’t move, as to not wake the sleeping boy in his arms. 

Draco looked positively horrendous. So unlike himself. Harry was used to seeing pristine hair, perfect posture, and a perfectly neutral face when it was quiet. Instead, Draco’s hair was frizzled, partially pressed flat against his forehead, he was curled against Harry, almost in a fetal position, and his face, though resting, showed some deeply suppressed pain that was beginning to bubble to the surface. Harry just slowly ran his hands through his hair and held him closely, making sure he was fully under a blanket and warm. 

Draco stirred, though didn’t wake. Harry watched as the boy twitched a bit, moved his hand, his leg, and on, as he dreamt. Harry knew that if the dream got violent, then he would wake him, but it seemed to be harmless. 

“Harry?” He heard a whisper, and looked over to Remus in the doorway, wearing a sweatshirt and the pajama pants he had on before. He looked tired, though he usually looked tired, and also seemed very, very worried. Arms crossed, foot shaking, anxious and held back. 

Harry didn’t respond verbally and instead nodded as to not wake his boyfriend who was currently gripping to his stomach, arms wrapped around his torso like a lifeline. 

“I’m going to make some hot chocolate. I will make you a glass.” Remus said softly, quietly padding through the living room to get to the kitchen. Once he was gone, Harry looked back down at Draco, sad smile playing on his lips.

“You’re safe,” He whispered softly, and the dreaming Draco shifted slightly in response. 

——

Draco woke up to the sound of people talking and the smell of chocolate. 

He opened his eyes to find his head in Harry’s, his Harry,lap, having his hair stroked by said boy as he sipped from a mug in his other hand. What he thought were voices turned out to be from the TV, in which some muggle thing was playing. 

Draco hummed, and Harry looked down, sad yet bright smile lighting his face. 

“Hi, baby. Sleep well?” His voice, though maybe not the softest or most soothing, was probably the only thing that would’ve kept Draco grounded in that moment. He moved to sit up, but Harry held him in place, silently insisting on keeping his head in his lap and stroking his most likely awful looking hair. 

“Hmm,” Draco hummed again, and Harry chuckled, poking his cheek playfully. 

“I hope you did.” 

Silence, and Draco could sense someone else in the room. He turned his head and saw Sirius sitting in the seat next to them, nursing his own cup, but not paying any attention. Or, at least trying to seem like he wasn’t.

“I’m sure you’re hungry. Remus is making breakfast right now. Pancakes, some fruit. He can make you a cup of hot chocolate, too.” 

“It’s July,” Draco mumbled, which caused a snort of laughter from Sirius, and a genuine laugh from Harry, who finally let him sit up. He stretched, mildly aware he was wearing one of Harry’s sleeping shirts and his pajama bottoms. 

They sat in silence, and Sirius made a bullshit excuse to flee the room to the kitchen to leave them alone. Harry muted the TV. 

“I talked to them this morning, when you were asleep. Sirius said that if you want to, you are one hundred percent allowed to stay. Here, I mean. And, you better say yes, Dray, because you know there is no way in hell I am letting you go back.” 

Draco didn’t doubt that. He averted his eyes, which welled up quicker than he would’ve liked to admit, and leaned forward to bump elbows with Harry. Harry took that as a leap, and set his mug down, leaning forward to capture Draco in a soft, sad, desperate kiss between the two fifteen and sixteen year olds. 

Draco broke it, letting his forehead, however sweaty and gross it was, rest on Harry’s. 

“Do they know? That we are…” 

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it. They aren’t gonna be mad we are together. They don’t care.” 

“Thank you.” Draco whispered. “For letting me stay. For keeping me around even when I am this broken. For even caring about something as fucked up as I—” 

“You aren’t fucked up. You are from a family who thinks it is okay to do fucked up things, but you are definitely not fucked up for thinking that doing fucked up things is bad. You are not a bad person, Draco Malfoy. You are not broken, maybe just a little bruised. Even then, it doesn’t define you. You don’t have to thank me for letting you stay, because I want you here. I want you safe, I want you around. Because…” 

Draco gripped Harry’s hand, tears flowing down his face freely. The usual Malfoy poise was long gone, as he fell apart and was being put back together by Harry and Harry alone. 

“I love you, Draco.” 

The first time they exchanged I love you’s. If they could get anything from this experience, at least it was that they knew, once and for all, that they loved each other. 

Bruises and all. 

——

“You smoke?” 

Sirius looked over his shoulder at Draco Malfoy. The late August air was breezy yet still hot, causing the smoke from his cigarette to flow beautifully above him. 

“Sometimes. Depends on if I wanna piss Remus off or not.” Sirius smirked, and Draco smiled shyly. “Come on, then. Sit.” 

Draco sat next to him. He was wearing rolled up jeans, socks he was sure were Harry’s, and a light green t-shirt. His hair was already getting a bit longer than normal, even with a cut from Remus only three weeks before. He had it tucked behind his ears where it hung down, pushed out of his face, seemingly free. 

“I wanted to tell you something. I dunno if this is the right time, what with you and Harry leaving in two days, but I think I needed to tell you before you go back to school. Because I know that is going to be tough.” 

Draco nodded solemnly. After almost two full months of living with Sirius, Remus and Harry, he learned how to read them. Learned their jokes, their mannerisms, their sources of happiness and sadness. It was end of July when he and Harry sat down with the couple at the table and the three explained thoroughly to Draco how Remus was a werewolf, a fact that up until living with them Draco assumed a stupid rumor kids made up around campus once Remus left third year. 

“You obviously know how I was disowned by the Blacks. Your mother’s family. Technically, I believe I am sort of your uncle in a twisted way, now that I think about it.” 

Draco didn’t try to think about it. He didn’t want to. 

“Anyway, I just wanted to ask you—do you know when in my life I was disowned by my family?” 

“When you were at Hogwarts, yeah? Harry told me that a while back.” Draco felt confused as to why they were having this odd conversation. Was Sirius really trying to make him feel better by telling him he was disowned, too? 

“Do you know what I did? When I was disowned?” 

Draco shook his head. 

“I actually ran away before they disowned me. I ran away, all the way to James’s house. Harry’s father’s.” 

Draco froze, staring at the man, who took a drag of his cigarette again, blowing smoke out slowly and gracefully. 

“It was the summer between my fifth and sixth year.” 

——

Draco knew the stares were coming. He gripped Harry’s hand just a bit tighter as they ran through the wall and to the other side, train coming into view. Instantly Draco saw people and avoided eye contact. 

“Promise me you both will write, yeah?” Remus said as they stood by one of the doors. Draco nodded, and Harry beamed. “We will see you at Christmas. Both of you.” 

“Thank you for letting me stay with you this summer.” 

“If you thought this was a one time thing, Draco, you would be sorely mistaken. We will see you at Christmas, and Easter, and again next summer for this time a whole three months with us!” Sirius smiled broadly, collecting the somewhat stiff boy in a tight hug, which he returned as earnestly as he could. 

Harry and Draco boarded the train, and found an empty compartment, waiting for some of their friends to show up. Luna, Ginny, Ron and Hermione, Neville, even Dean and Seamus. 

They both waved enthusiastically through the window at Remus and Sirius as they took off for another year at Hogwarts. 

The war was looming, sure. Voldemort was rising to power, once again. Trouble was bound to occur, and bound to take over eventually. 

But, Draco rested his head on Harry’s shoulder as they chatted to their friends happily, ignoring the future for a few minutes, ignoring the looming war. 

Just as however many years before Sirius and James did after Sirius ran away. 

Draco held Harry’s hand a bit tighter. In another life, another world, maybe, Draco would be miserable. Who knows what would’ve happened had he stayed. Had he not become friends then lovers with Harry Potter. 

Draco didn’t think about it, and instead began to hypothesize with Hermione about who the new teacher that year would be, and was able to laugh as Ron dumped an entire box of Berties Every Flavour Beans into his mouth, spit dribbling out hilariously.

The situation, the warmth and comfort of having good, close friends was new to Draco. But, if he was being completely honest, he didn’t mind it at all.


End file.
